Why Stopping AI Nudes Needs More Than Just Rules

Public anger over AI-generated nude images has rightly focused on the victims — mostly women — whose photos are turned into sexualized deepfakes without consent. When reports emerged that users on X were asking its chatbot Grok to create explicit images of celebrities, private individuals, and even minors, the outrage was immediate. These acts cause reputational damage, emotional trauma, and a deep sense of violation.

But there is another side to this crisis that receives far less attention: the harm this technology inflicts on the people who use it.

This is not about excusing bad behaviour. Rather, it is about recognizing a self-destructive pattern that could serve as a powerful deterrent. As the columnist argues, AI-generated porn does not only dehumanize its targets — it quietly reshapes the emotional lives of its consumers in damaging ways.

Traditional pornography, for all its problems, usually remains distant from real life. It is a fantasy performed by consenting adults who are strangers to the viewer. AI deepfakes collapse that distance. Suddenly, the user becomes the producer, able to turn a coworker, a barista, or a date into an explicit simulation. Fantasy and reality blur, and the boundary of consent disappears.

In this process, what should be a mutual, respectful pursuit of intimacy is replaced by a shortcut that requires no emotional effort. Historically, the desire for love and sex has pushed people to develop vital human skills — communication, vulnerability, patience, and compromise. These abilities are not easy to build, but they are essential for lasting relationships.

AI porn disrupts this process. It delivers the “reward” without the work.

When someone can generate a digital partner who looks exactly how they want and do exactly what they want, the motivation to face the uncertainty of real relationships weakens. Over time, users may begin to prefer the controllable to the real — training themselves to avoid the emotional risks that make intimacy meaningful.

The author, a psychologist specialising in romantic relationships, describes a growing pattern in clinical practice. Many patients, mostly men, complain about poor dating lives and emotional disconnection. Often, they do not initially see their porn use as relevant. They can perform sexually, yet struggle with intimacy. Dating feels exhausting, so they drift toward interactive pornography — webcam platforms, live streams, and now AI-generated fantasies.

“They’re not consciously choosing to avoid dating; in fact, they say they want a relationship.” Yet over time, interactive porn becomes central to their lives. More often than not, it is the therapist who must point out that their habits have quietly eroded both desire and capacity for real connection.

Research supports this observation. Moving from passive porn consumption to interactive sexual content is associated with greater relationship difficulties. The reason is simple: people experience a sense of connection without risk, without rejection, and without negotiation.

But real relationships are built through friction — disappointment, compromise, and communication. Without these experiences, people never develop the emotional muscles required for lasting partnership.

Public messaging rightly condemns nonconsensual image generation because it violates victims. But that is only half the story. We must also warn users that this behaviour ultimately leaves them less capable of intimacy and more likely to end up lonely.

As AI becomes more accessible, especially to young users, this fuller warning may stop someone before they cross a line that harms others — and themselves.